


Let Me Be Better For You

by Miss_L



Series: Ships In The Night [1]
Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, I like babbling in tags, I suppose, M/M, Slash, also some, and dorks being dorks, heh :), no you, no you shut up, shut up, sue me!, that about sums it up, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-01 23:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_L/pseuds/Miss_L
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I want to hide the truth<br/>I want to shelter you<br/>But with the beast inside<br/>There's nowhere we can hide<br/>No matter what we breed<br/>We still are made of greed<br/>This is my kingdom come<br/>This is my kingdom come</p><p>- 'Demons', Imagine Dragons</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merycula (thanksillpass)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanksillpass/gifts).



> I'm SO sorry! I've no idea how to write these two. I'm only at the beginning of the original Deadpool series (vol. 2), and as far as Spidey goes... Well, I've only watched the movies *blush* However, I tried, so... Eh... Here! *throws story*runs away*
> 
> For deepship(thanksillpass), because a. I based some headcanon on theirs and b. they're friggin' awesome!!! <3

Of course Deadpool had to come to New York to _fuck shit up._ The few encounters they had had before, have always ended in disaster, and Spidey had heard enough rumours and stories about the unstoppable force that was Wade Wilson to be very, _very_ exasperated upon seeing the masked merc. Not to mention pissy. This was _his_ turf, and _his_ bad guys to be beaten up _(not_ killed), so the annoying red-and-black panda could fuck off, thank you muchly. He obviously didn't say this out loud – he was angsty, not suicidal. Still, as soon as the bad guys were defeated _(“Hey! You ripped my suit, dickhead!” It had all been a bit of a blur from there…),_ he faced Deadpool.

“What are you doing here?” He crossed his arms over his heaving chest and hoped he looked at least a little bit intimidating.

“Nice to see you, too!” ‘Pool grinned in answer and mock-boxed him on the shoulder. Apparently, not intimidating _at all_.

 _Damn._ Spider-Man relaxed and dropped his arms, but not the power-stance. 

“Deadpool. I’m tired. My suit is messed-up. And you just came to my city to kill people for money. Give me one good reason not to web you to the wall and call the police.” Distant sirens broke the relative silence. “Scratch that. Just web you to the wall.”

The spandex-grin faded. Before his spidey-senses had even had time to start kicking in, the masked vigilante was staring down the barrel of a gun. Very handsome. Very shiny. Extremely deadly, especially considering whose muscled arm was attached to it. Deadpool’s voice dropped an octave.

“That’s what I consider a ‘good reason’. Walk with me.”

Spider-Man didn't respond. He crossed his arms over his chest again and just stood there. The click of the safety-pin coming off sent a little shiver down his spine, but he still didn't move. Wade cocked his head, then frowned and tutted. _He actually_ tutted _at me!_ Safety still off, ‘Pool scratched his head with the gun and sighed. Bending forward, he slung his free arm around the web-head’s lithe waist and threw the red-and-blue pain over his shoulder.

“Try anything and I will shoot your ass off,” he warned gruffly. Which obviously didn't stop Spidey from kicking and punching him, shouting insults and curses, making Deadpool laugh uncontrollably at mental images of damsels and dresses.

\---

By the time Wilson decided that he had put enough space between himself and the police, Spidey had shouted himself hoarse and now hung limply around Deadpool’s ridiculously buff frame. And so it was that, when Wade’s hand “accidentally” groped his arse when he put his load down, the verbal protest was weak and insubstantial. Spider-Man’s entire body seemed to have deflated somehow and he leaned against a wall. Wade couldn't see his face because of the mask – duh! – but he would've bet his latest salary that the boy had closed his eyes. And he was but a boy. Despite the vigilante’s reputation and fame, Wade had been around enough male bodies _(more than enough, really. Most of them dead ones)_ to know a teenager when he saw one. The lump that would pass for a heart in someone else’s chest, contracted a little when he thought about what a burden all of this had to be for Spidey. _Jesus, he’s just a kid!_ But he wasn't known for his compassion, and it was really non-existent. _Yeah, right, pull the other one, it plays Celine Dion._

“Spidey…”

The boy’s head snapped up and he pushed himself away from the wall. Again, his posture didn't fool either of them, but now was not the time for power-games.

“Look, web-ass…” Wade ignored the furious “hmpf!” and pressed on. “I was just here for a job, and as much as I like carrying you around with me – actually, I should totally have a pocket!Spidey, you know? – right, eh… I’m done with the job, so I’ll be out of your bristles now. Hehe, see what I did there? ‘Bristles’? Cause you’re a-” He could _feel_ Spider-Man’s glare intensify now, although the arachnid still hadn't dignified him with an actual answer. “Yeah, 'kay. I’m going away now, okay? I’d appreciate it if you didn't report me to the police or whatever. I’d only have to kill them, and there are already enough stains to get out of my suit… And lemme tell you, blood doesn't wash out as well as you might think. Also, I don’t want to kill you, and you know I will. We good?”

Spidey sighed and looked at his feet. As much as he wanted to bring every single dirtbag to justice, he was just so _tired_ right now… Would it really be that bad to let Wade go this time? Not like he even stood a chance against the wall of muscle and lack of morals anyway…

“Yeah. Yeah, we good.” He looked up to see Deadpool eyeing him… Quizzically? Man, those masks were inconvenient. Well, good for keeping an identity secret, but otherwise… Oh great, now his mind was wandering.

“How old are you even, kid?” There was more tenderness in Wade’s voice than befitted such a murdering machine, and both men preferred to ignore it.

“Don’t call me ‘kid’, and it’s none of your fucking business.”

“That’s no way to talk to old people, you know, potty mouth!” Deadpool punched his shoulder again playfully and walked off, spandex on his pumped back-muscles playing in the dim street-lights. _I need sleep,_ Spider-Man thought while he facepalmed himself and prepared to swing his way home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day, I will cease writing shitty fics. Today is not that day.

Wade Wilson found himself contemplating friendship. He was familiar with the concept, sure. He had mates. Hombres. Homies. Amigos. They had a good time together, now and then. And they were useful. But someone with whom he had a deep spiritual bond? No. To be fair, Deadpool had never felt the need for a companion like that. But at times, when the mask was off and he was just Wade… Well, Blind Al had probably been closest to a real friend he’s ever had, despite their history. But Al was gone, and Wade Wilson was, once again, alone. However, only after his last meeting with Spider-Man, when he got a little peek behind the superhero-identity, did he realize he was also _lonely._ Maybe he _was_ getting old, after all…

\---

Spider-Man had gotten himself into trouble again. Capital “t” this time. There were bombs and assassins, and he was actually bound to a chair. _Seriously?_ The self-proclaimed villain was yapping about his master plan, but the vigilante had tuned out. The guy was a new player – expensive watch, dirty shoes – and they all had the same story to tell, anyway. World domination, yadda yadda. Man, they just didn't make decent bad guys anymore! Well, except a certain merc he may or may not have been thinking about lately. A _lot._ Right, back to the issue. He needed to get out, obviously. Radioactive healing or not, he wouldn't survive a bullet to the head, and Muddyshoes started to get tired of the sound of his own voice. The captor was approaching him now. What was he doing? Spidey concentrated on what he was saying.

“… That mask, shall we?” Oh no. Nonono, he was _not_ in the mood for a reveal of his secret identity. Not right now. The villain – Mr Web-head didn't even bother to remember his name – extended his hand towards his prisoner. _Wow, that watch is really shiny…_

Just then, the shooting started. Going by everybody’s confused faces, there was a new player on the field. Good, because Spidey had finally wormed his hand out of the ropes – _not their best knotting technique_ – and that with minimal rope burn. He had freed himself by the time the fighting had reached them and a familiar brick shithouse ran into the room, guns blazing. Literally blazing. He was changing the magazines so fast, it sounded like Deadpool had a machinegun. _Well fuck,_ Spider-Man thought to himself as he knocked one of the remaining live minions out cold, _Last person I needed to see right now._ He was annoyed again – a natural reaction to Wade Wilson, obviously – but his heart was also fluttering in beat with ‘Pool’s incessant shooting. A strange sensation, and luckily not one he had time to contemplate right now.

When all the bad guys were floored, they just stood there panting, facing each other. Deadpool smiled and checked his magazines.

“I’m out,” he declared in too happy a voice. Spidey understood; after all, he wasn't the only one high on adrenaline.

“Why are you here?” He tried to sound friendly, he really did. But Wade had that effect on him where his irritation-levels rose at the mere mention of the merc’s name. 

“Not very happy to see me, I gather?” Deadpool’s eyes narrowed. “And here I was, risking my life to save yours!” he said in a teary and over-dramatic voice. Then the grin returned to his face. “You’re welcome.” He put the empty guns back in their holsters – _how are this guy’s thighs this muscled? Focus, idiot!_ – and bent to take the watch off the dead bad guy’s wrist.

“I was doing fucking fine on my own, thank you very much!” Spider-Man all but shouted.

“Jeez, calm down! And watch your language. Kids could be reading this!” He ignored Spidey’s questioning croak. “Honestly, must we fight every time? Can’t we just be pals or something?” Wade’s tone was joking, but there was hurt under it.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” _Shit, didn't’t mean to hurt him. Wait, since when do I care?_ Spider-Man decided to bail before he got light-headed from all the frustrated sighing he was doing right now. “I gotta go, man. Ehm… Thanks. Or… Whatever.”

Deadpool frowned and walked towards him. “Where are you going?” He cocked his head in that manner of his… Spidey wasn't sure whether he found it endearing or even more annoying.

“Home. And I should probably call the police and tell them I've found a warehouse full of dead guys. Gonna start smelling in a while.” He turned around and walked away. All too soon, he felt footsteps behind him – for a big guy, Deadpool was truly stealthy, but he was Spider-Man, damn it! – and turned around.

“What are _you_ doing?” He resisted the urge to cross his arms again. Wade stopped and his shoulders sagged. Still, he tried for his usual bravado.

“I… Wanted to make sure you get home okay. Maybe go get a couple of brewskis together?”

“Bre- What?”

“Oh, I mean beers.” Wade looked so eager, like a little puppy, the vigilante couldn't help but giggle. Then laugh. Wilson’s confused body-language only made him laugh harder, until he was bent double, clutching at his own middle. Then Deadpool started laughing, too. A deep, booming sound. Spidey promptly stopped laughing, only to listen to that beautiful sound – and it was _beautiful_. He didn't know whether it was the adrenaline or the fatigue, but he thought he could listen to Wade Wilson laugh – not chuckle, or sarcastically sneer, but actually be amused – every day for the rest of his life. 

The merc’s laughter died away and he coughed embarrassedly.

“So… Beer?”

Spidey was sure that, even with the mask, his grin was visible from a mile away. Wade smiled back.

“Come on, I know a bar where they don’t ask to take the mask off, as long as you pay.”

\---

The bro-bonding wasn't even as horrid as Spider-Man had thought it would be. Usually, he wasn't very good around alpha males, what with actually being a nerdy college kid, but Deadpool was funny (once you got past the juvenile potty-humour and constant sexual innuendos) and had entertaining stories to tell (whether or not they were all true – well…). More than that, for all his mental instability and “dumb brawn”-image, Wade Wilson could actually discuss a broad range of subjects. He was currently explaining the difference between internal combustion engines before and after the Industrial Revolution, making Spidey’s alter ego’s inner geek very hot, and sipping his beer through his mask.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take your mask off for that?” he finally asked, watching Deadpool manoeuvre the bottle around the spandex. His own disguise had been just under his nose since he had walked into the bar.

“Nah.” Deadpool put his empty bottle on the table and signaled the barmaid for two more. “Wouldn't want to scare good people of New York.”

“Aww, c’mon,” his companion drawled. “Surely, it can’t be that bad?” He felt a little tipsy and very brave, so he extended a hand towards Deadpool’s face. Had he been sober, he would have known better. Wade grabbed his wrist lightning-fast and squeezed so hard, Spider-Man could hear his bones creak.

There was menace in Wade’s posture as he pulled the web-head towards him by the hand. “Don’t. Ever. Try. That. Again.” Every word was punctuated by another squeeze of Spidey’s aching fingers. Wade put his other hand demonstratively on the young man’s elbow, ready to snap it. “Understand?”

“Y… Yes, Wade, calm down. I didn't’t mean anything by it!” His digits were finally freed. He rubbed his hand and huffed. “If you want to have beer all over your suit, be my guest.” Good thing he was wearing his mask, because there were tears of pain in his eyes – hardly manly – and they had little to do with physical ache.

By the time the new bottles had arrived, they were engrossed in a scientific discussion.

\---

It was a strange alliance, but it worked. They would go out there together and kick bad guys’ butts. Spidey didn't question a merc’s motives to start doing charity work, he just enjoyed having someone to watch his back. And he was secretly proud of getting Deadpool to agree not to shoot anyone while he was around. In return, Wade had stipulated the right to be Spider-Man’s human shield, knowing how reckless the boy could be. It was good. And they usually ended up at their bar afterwards. Sometimes, they would even end up at the bar without having kicked any butts whatsoever. It was all good.


	3. Chapter 3

It worked for a while, too. Until Wade went back to what he was best at: killing people bloodily. Spidey tried to ignore it. See no evil, hear no evil – after all, they never as much as discussed ‘Pool’s work. However, when the merc did a job not two blocks away from Spider-Man’s house, enough was enough. He snapped.

“Wade. What the f… _hell_ do you think you’re doing?” Hands on his hips, Spider-Man was entirely sure he looked like a pissy wife, but he couldn't care less. He hadn't even waited to get to a more private place and started shouting in the street, ignoring the curious – and alarmed – glances that got him.

“What do you mean, Webby?” The grin masqué was wide as ever, but quickly faded when Spider-Man stepped into Deadpool’s personal space and prodded his chest hard.

“You _know_ what I mean, and you have a choice. Either you go and give yourself up-”

“What?” Wade interrupted, voice high with incredulity. “We’ve been over this. I’m not-”

“Shut up and let me finish.” Spider-Man’s voice was so menacing, he actually managed to stun Merc-with-a-Mouth into silence. “Either you give yourself up and spare me the embarrassment of turning in my friend…” _Shit, didn't mean to say ‘friend’. Oh well, too late now. Doesn't matter either way._ “Or you leave New York for good. And I mean _forever._ You don’t come here, you don’t even think the city’s name. Capisce?” 

Wade stepped even closer, engulfing Spider-Man in body heat and the smell of tacos, and lowered his voice. “First off, you know I can’t do either. And I won’t. Secondly, people are staring, could we have this conversation somewhere more… Private?”

“No!” The young vigilante was no longer certain he would not explode into a cloud of web and frustration at this rate. He breathed out through his nose and tried to invoke his Zen. “No,” he said softer. “We’re having this conversation here, now, and you will answer immediately. I didn't ask you to stay. It’s nice, I appreciate everything you've done for me, but-” He put his hand up to keep Wade from speaking. “But it’s over. We had a deal, and you broke it.”

“How did I break it? ‘No guns when you’re around’ was the deal! I did not agree to give my job up altogether, and you never asked me that. I know, because, despite what people think, I actually listen to others.” The hurt in his voice was unmistakeable now, especially for one who had come to know Wade intimately.

“Wade…” Spider-Man was not sure how to explain. “Look, do you ever bother to find out anything about your ‘targets’ and why they need to die? No? The woman you killed last week in Maryland? She had two little children. Her husband was construction worker before he died. She had to borrow money from your ‘client’ to be able to feed them. How was she to know he was the mob? No, don’t even fucking try to interrupt me!” He felt his voice rise again, but was past caring. “The man you ‘offed’ just now? Undercover CIA-agent. Saved at least fifteen lives in the past year. Tell me, is the money worth it?”

For the first time in _ever_ , Wade didn't have a clever retort. It was quiet for a while, then Spidey crossed his arms and sighed. “Choose now.”

Deadpool finally exploded – _took him long enough_ – and started shouting. “Fuck you! I don’t need you telling me what to do! I don’t need this shit, you’re not my mother! In fact…” His voice dropped a little. “In fact, I don’t need you. Fuck. You.” He turned around and strode away, the last thing Spider-Man heard was “rassum frassum”. 

Well. That was that, then.


	4. Chapter 4

He was not moping. Staying at home when his friends went out was necessary. He had to study. And studying could easily involve eating a whole container of Ben&Jerry’s, listen to sappy music and not get anything done. He was _not_ moping, and he was _definitely_ not missing a certain masked merc. Nope.

\---

Deadpool hadn't killed anyone since he had left New York. He still kicked ass, obviously. However, only when he started kicking other bad guys’ ass for no reason (and _no_ money), did he realise he had a serious problem. And only one person could fix it. Fix him.

\---

 _”Meet me in the alley behind the bar at 7.30 pm. Give me 10 minutes before you call the cops, please?”_ Spider-Man stared at the phone in his hand like it had just grown a nose. _Seriously?_ He couldn't believe Wade’s balls. After everything, he not only dared to come back, but also demanded to be seen? What the hell? Still, the way Spidey’s heart fluttered when he had read the text, he knew he wouldn't be able to stay away.

\---

Wade wanted to make sure Spider-Man _(I don’t even know his real name…)_ could run away easily if he wanted to, hence the alley. Or, alternatively, to projectile-vomit someplace else than his Deadpool-suit – those things were not exactly cheap. So he had helpfully opened a dumpster nearby. And he was not pacing nervously. Absolutely not. The feeling in his gut was alertness, he told himself. Not butterflies. He wasn't nervous. _Oh, shut up, we both know that’s not true._ So much for staying focused, then…

Deadpool didn't need spidey-senses to feel his – friend? – watching him from fire steps at 7.30 sharp.

“Come down, Spidey. You’re here, which means I only have 10 minutes, and you know how I tend to backtrack … Like now.” His voice sounded constricted to himself, but he still forced a smile when the arachnid came down with a soft “thump” and stood up.

Did the guy have to cross his arms like that? Defensive stances were never inviting. Although his biceps sure looked nice… _Focus, focus, focus, you fucking moron! You’re gonna blow it!_

“No ‘hello’? Right. Look, I… I wanted to show you something. No, tell you something. Basically, both. A show-and-tell of Deadpool, eh?” Spider-Man had still not moved, breathing the only sign he was even alive. Wade plunged.

“Look, I don’t want to scare you, but I’m… I’m gonna take off my mask, so you might wanna brace yourself. Like, _a lot_. Kay?”

Spidey nodded once, and watched with growing curiosity as the other man slowly, shyly pulled off his disguise and straightened his shoulders. A little shame-blush crept up Wade’s damaged cheeks, but he endured the stare he knew was coming from behind the other mask. However, despite the shock he knew his real face would be, the man opposite him didn't as much as hold his breath. He just stood there, making Wade more uncomfortable by the second, until the merc finally bowed his head. Only then did Spider-Man move. Towards him. He untangled his arms and brought his hand up to Wade’s face hesitantly.

“May I?” His voice was timid, but there was no disgust in it. Wilson looked up at him suspiciously, then nodded. _Scientific interest, nothing more,_ his voices suggested helpfully. He would've believed it, too, were it not for the fact that Spidey took off his glove and wiped his sweaty hand on his chest before touching Wade’s face. Gingerly at first, bolder as he let his digits get accustomed to the dry and uneven landscape of Wilson’s face. Funny, how arousing such simple caresses could be, especially for one so starved of touch. He dropped his head again, but the youngster didn't retract his hand. This was getting uncomfortable – mostly in Deadpool’s pants. He cleared his throat and Spider-Man finally broke the skin-on-skin contact.

“The rest of me doesn't look much better. Worse, in places.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Wade. I had no idea…”

Deadpool looked up sharply. Spider-Man’s shoulders were sagging, and the sadness and guilt in his voice cut Wade harder and deeper than anything he had ever experienced for himself. Including The Workshop. He hadn't noticed when his legs had given out, but he was sitting on his knees in front of the web-head now, feeling as broken as if he had just fallen off the roof of the Chrysler building. He bowed his head again, putting himself completely at the mercy of the vigilante.

“I’m sorry I broke your trust, Spidey. I… I miss you, and I need you. You’re my only friend.” Tears fell down his face. _Now, this is just embarrassing._ He couldn't stop the moisture if he tried, and he also knew, deep down, that it was the kind of thing Spider-Man would thaw to. _Manipulative little asshole, aren't you?_ Well, at least he actually meant it.

He wiped his face and looked up at the masked hero – _Don’t look at his crotch, don’t look at his crotch_. He wasn't sure how to convince Spidey that he was sincere this time, so he did what he always did – keep talking. “Please, don’t call the cops. I… I need your help. I want to change, to be better, I really really do, but I can’t do it alone. Please, Spidey… Please-”

“Peter.”

“Ehh… What?”

Spider-Man pulled his mask off and smiled. “My name is Peter Parker.” 

For a moment, Wade was stunned by the sheer beauty and dorkiness of the young superhero. Then his brain came back online. “Wait, aren't you that dweeb who makes pictures of Spider-Man for the Daily Bugle or something?” He clasped his hand in front of his mouth belatedly, but Spi- _Peter_ just grinned wider. Wade giggled. “Smooth,” he offered with a wink.

“I’m surprised nobody has made the connection before, you know?” Peter said. Then his smile faded and he put his hand on Wade’s shoulder. “Are you going to get up anytime soon? This is uncomfortable.” 

Wade shook his head. He couldn't get up if he wanted to, his knees felt all weak and shaky. _Well, aren't you a teenage girl._ He couldn't deny the truth of that accusation. If his crush on Spider-Man was already embarrassing, the things _Peter_ did to his stomach were just obscene. 

Peter sighed and sunk to his knees in front of Wade. For lack of a better plan, he slung his arms around Deadpool’s shoulders and pressed their cheeks together. He felt two ripped arms enfold him in response, and they just _stayed_ like that. It was good.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What follows is a bit of silly schmex. If you're not into that kind of thing, please consider chapter 4 to be the end ;)  
> Otherwise, proceed! Don't expect too much, though, I'm a very lazy (smut-)writer :3 Basically, I'm just very lazy xD

How they had even gotten as far as Parker’s dingy apartment, was anyone’s guess, but there they were, panting and pulling, kissing and licking, trying to get out of their suits – “Damn spandex!” – as soon and as safely as they could. Fidgeting in the dark was the opposite of effective, so Peter went for the light-switch, but Wade stopped him.

“No, please, don’t! You’ll ruin it.” The web-head could only just see his pleading expression in the moonlight. He sighed.

“Wade, I think it was clear I don’t care about the… Scars.” _For lack of a better word._ The scarred hand was still holding his wrist gently.

“Please. I’ll help you with that silly suit of yours, promise.”

“Fine,” Peter gave in, too aroused and desperate for a fuck to care right now. The moon-lit grin his concession earned him was totally worth it. Of course, the next thing Wade did, was falling down like a tree when he couldn't get out of his tights fast enough. Peter dove towards him to make sure he was okay, instead banging their heads together and making them both giggle until they were breathless. Wilson finally kicked the cloth away, got to his feet and picked the still partially spandexed Spidey up.

Unlike the previous time Deadpool had carried him, Peter didn't kick or curse, just kiss Wade silly on their way to the bedroom. Not running into any walls was a true miracle on Wade’s part. Next thing they knew, Peter was straddling Wade’s mighty hips on the bed, _kissing_ him again, his tongue doing things that silenced even the voices in the merc’s head. He couldn't stand not feeling all of Peter’s naked skin on his anymore, and ripped the blue-and-red trousers, silencing Peter’s annoyed squeak with his tongue – down the young man’s throat, obviously.

“I’ll buy you a new suit,” he whispered hoarsely against Peter’s sweaty temple when they broke for air. The younger man snorted.

“With what money? No more killing, remember?”

“I’ll think of something,” Wade retorted with a smile, his deep voice sending shivers through every single cell of Peter Parker’s body. The boy forgot why he was annoyed in the first place and started rutting shamelessly against the firm body under him. The noises the older man started emitting then were downright obscene. More obscene than any porn or smutty joke ever, because it was _him_ doing that to Wade. Taking the big scary merc apart with a few simple movements. It was heated, and it was glorious.

At some point, Wilson finally got his (albeit, never full) wits back and grabbed Peter’s waist to stop him moving. Which obviously didn't stop the heated web-head from kissing every inch of his exposed neck and chest – very distracting.

“Peter. Peter, wait… Oh, that’s… Aaaah… No, wait! Pete!” The young man listened for once and stopped moving. As worry crept up his spine and through the lusty fog in his mind, he even stopped breathing.

“What’s wrong, Wade? Did I… Did I do something wrong?” His timidity was both adorable and heart-breaking, and Wilson hurried to reassure him.

“No, nothing like that. You’re amazing. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?” Peter’s giggle warmed his cockles – _whatever cockles are_. He rubbed little circles on the slim hips he was currently anchoring his mind on as he gathered his thoughts. It didn't help matters that most of his blood was in his cock, begging for attention, but he made an effort anyway.

“We… Eh… We should talk about this? Yes, no? I mean, I have some experience in this particular area – being buttsex…” _Oh man, Peter’s embarrassed giggle is the cutest thing ever. No, I didn't say “cute”. I don’t do “cute”. Focus._ “But ehm… You..?” The silence became a little loaded.

“Never,” Parker answered shyly. _Aww, you’re so cute!!! I want to eat you, like a little chimichanga._ Wade was very proud of himself for not voicing this thought, instead stroking the boy’s back soothingly.

“It’s okay, we’ll take it slow. Just tell me what you like and what you don’t, ‘kay?” Peter nodded against his collarbone and straightened his back a little.

“I will.” His eyes burned in the moonlight, and Wilson’s feverish mind shut down entirely again as he flipped the boy over on the bed and proceeded to give him the best blowjob he had ever had – if Peter’s shouts were anything to go by.


End file.
